War and Peace
by michii1213
Summary: All it took was one bad day for everything to go downhill.  /Will most definitely be a three-shot/
1. Chapter 1

He should've stayed in bed this morning. Whatever almighty being was above was certainly driving that point home with excessive force. He sighed and bashed his forehead against the steering wheel of his broken-down SUV. Of course, the hunk of metal had decided actually _moving_ was beyond its designated tasks. On today, of all the three hundred sixty-five days of the calendar year. It had chosen this specific day to ruin his life. And on this, he wasn't being melodramatic in any sorts. His life would honestly be ruined, destroyed, annihilated. All over a damn vehicle.

With another angry groan, he exited the SUV and slammed his hand into the hood. He had no idea what the Hell could have gone wrong; cars had never been his forte. He glanced down at his cell phone; instead of the usual bars at the top, blaring in bold letters on the screen, was **NO SIGNAL.**

_Shit._

Those two words were undoubtedly the final nail in his coffin. How in the Hell was he going to explain this? He swore to himself again and hoped against hope that someone would come rescue him. But, as he looked – no, _ glared_ – down the road in both directions, he knew that was highly unlikely for a long while.

**\_/**

_Beepbeepbeep_.

The powers that be had deigned it an appropriate time for signal to come to his cell phone! He wiped the sweat from his forehead and quickly pressed **3. **Hopefully, his luck would hold out. Those two and a half miles had definitely taken a harsh toll on his aging body.

"Hotchner."

"Aaron, I need help."

"What now, Dave?"

"Look, my car broke down. Please come get me."

"Why don't you call a tow company?"

"Nobody will come out this far. Please?"

"Wait, let me get this straight," stated Hotch, his smile more than evident in his voice; he was obviously enjoying his friend's desperation, "you want me to come save you from one Hell to deliver you to your own demise?"

"Yea, something like that."

"I'm on my way. Stay there."

**\_/**

He double-checked his locks for the tenth time in less than an hour. Aaron had promised to be his saviour for the night – although it had come at a hefty price: Dave had no choice but to allow Aaron to watch the distribution of his punishment. At last, his friend tapped on his window with an enormous grin on his face. If the situation hadn't been so grim, Dave would have remarked on how long it had been since anyone had seen the Unit Chief smile so unabashedly.

"Not a word," he growled as he slid into the passenger seat.

The ride to Dave's house was silent; only an occasional chuckle from the man driving. Finally, Aaron pulled up in front of the mansion. The front porch light was on; the ball of dread in Dave's gut swiftly unravelled, stretching its tendrils into every muscle and nerve in his body. A heavy sigh forced itself from him, and he trudged up the walk and inside the entry hall.

"Hotch, go home."

"Aw, but – "

"Aaron, go. Home."

Though she hadn't raised her voice, the tone in which the words were spoken brooked no argument. Hotch slowly exited the house, and Dave felt as if his one lifeline, the only reason he might live past tonight, escape. Now, she had to worry about no witnesses: She could kill him in any method she pleased and then pass it off as an entirely different cause of death.

"Cara, I'm sorry. I –"

"Save it, David. You'll find your bed is already made up on the sofa. Goodnight."

The clock on the wall ticked away the night, but he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt in her eyes. Sure, some anger had been thrown into the mix in her clear blue irises, but there wasn't enough ire in them to even begin to put a damper on the pain reflected. The pain he caused. He groaned, stood up, and headed up the stairs. She was curled up on her side of the bed, facing the window; he stepped into the room and silently closed the door behind him.

"I know you're still awake, and I'm glad. We need to talk. I am so sorry. I should have called you."

"Yet you called Hotch. _Hotch_, Dave. Not me. _I'm_ your wife. And on _our _third anniversary, you called Hotch to come get you. If you had called me, you wouldn't be in this mess. _I_ had to take care of _our_ son who, by the way, has been a living terror since you left for the damn book tour, while eight months pregnant with _our_ baby who isn't even here yet, but has learned exactly where to put her feet in order to hurt Mommy the most. On top of that, I was worried about you, pissed…all these emotions, all at once. And you call our fucking _boss_."

"I know, Jen. I can't say how sorry I am. I wanted to surprise you. I wish I _had_ called you instead of Hotch. Please, cara, forgive me."

"I'm still so incredibly angry with you, but I'm too damn tired to do much about it right now. Just come to bed. You'll get your dues in the morning. Trust me."

David couldn't help himself as he pressed a soft kiss to his wife's forehead; he threaded his fingers in hers and whispered, "Whatever you feel is right, I'll do, as long as it means you forgive and still love me. I never want to hear of you being anything but Jennifer Ann Rossi."

"Née Jareau," she retorted smartly, "and don't think you're out of the woods, or that I'll forget about what you did. Enjoy this peace while you an, mister. It's about to be long gone. Indefinitely."

_**This was written for ilovetvalot. I definitely went out of my comfort zone for this, so if anything is, y'know, too OOC, I apologise. Hope you enjoy! **_


	2. Chapter 2

Yep. Karma was a bitch. And one who was on a mission to aide his wife in vengeance. To tell the truth: he was quickly losing this battle – and sadly enough, his patience with JJ.

Since he had been woken up in a not-so-elegant manner (a kick to the shin from a "sleeping" wife twenty-five minutes before the alarm was due to go off), David Rossi had made coffee; changed, fed, cleaned up, changed (again), and consoled an irate Henry; fixed and carried JJ breakfast; did the dishes; and started laundry. He'd had to remind himself multiple times that he deserved payback. He _had_ been gone for their anniversary. But damn it, the lack of conversation except for "Honey, please…" was beginning to grate on his last nerve.

After their son was laid down for his nap, Dave walked into their bedroom and sat o the end of the bed. JJ continued reading the latest book Garcia had bestowed upon her the last she'd visited.

"Cara, we need to talk."

"What's to talk about? Honey, can you please run me a bath."

"Not until we talk."

"David Rossi, I need a bath, and since you practically cornered the poor doctor until he put me on bed rest, you're the only one _capable_," she all but spat the word, "to get it started. So, please, run me a bath. Then we can talk."

Not wanting to pick a fight with his very pregnant, and very determined, _moglie_, he acquiesced; he knew from personal experience when to push and when to pause. This was undoubtedly a 'pause' type of situation. He made sure she was submerged in the water before lowering himself onto the floor.

"Jayje… please. I am so sorry for what happened. I really wish I could change it. But I can't. I never meant to leave you alone with Henry all day, especially on our anniversary. But it happened, and I can never say I'm sorry enough. But you've gotta stop punishing me."

"I'm sorry, Dave. I just… I wanted you to feel the way _I_ did. Even with Garcie, Hotch, Emily… Hell, even with Morgan and Reid, I was doing everything, except for maybe two hours. And it hurt like Hell to think you'd forgotten about our anniversary."

"Of course not, cara."

"I know that." She sighed and raised a hand in defeat. "Honey, please…"

"Jen!" groaned he.

"I'm kidding! But I _was_ gonna ask you to join in this wonderful bath."

"That's something I would _love_ to do."

**.:.:.:.**

The day passed in easy comfort between the two. Since the team were on stand-down, Garcia had swung by to pick up her godson and allow Henry to have a sleepover at her house with Jack Hotchner. Dave groaned to himself as he remember the tired the voluptuous blonde had delievered as soon as she'd stepped foot into the house.

"How dare you do that to my gumdrop? Do you have _any_ idea of what she went through?"

"Kitten, I know full well what she'd gone through. Trust me, she made sure I knew. And I already apologised."

She'd sniffed angrily, appraising him with an intense eye. "Don't think you're out of the danger zone with me, because if Peaches in there tells me you put one more toe over the line, I'll make you rue the day you crossed her. Again."

Dave slid a hand down JJ's shoulders and relished in the pleasant warmth and weight she provided when she leaned further into his chest. It was nights like this that he enjoyed most – just spending time with his wife. He'd never be able to understand what she saw in him. He'd been married three times before her; his reputation of being the BAU's resident playboy should have had her running for the hills. Instead, she'd stood by his side through all the scrutiny, the backhanded comments from strangers, the judging, everything. She'd buried herself, and their children, so far into his heart, that if they left, it would be the end of him.

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple and whispered huskily, "I love you, Jen."

"I love you, too. What are you thinking about?"

"How I'd die if I didn't have you or the kids."

"You'll never have to be without us, and you know that. I kinda gave you my heart and my life when I said 'I do.'"

"Let's go to bed, babe."

****.:.:.:.****

He pressed his cell phone to his ear absently. "Rossi."

"Dave, get to the hospital. Now."

"What the Hell? Aaron? What's – JJ?"

"Yea. You need to know, she's…she's pretty banged up, Dave. So just hurry."


	3. Chapter 3

The team glanced up as he barrelled into the waiting room. Garcia's already-red eyes immediately filled with fresh tears, and she raced to give him one of the tightest hugs he'd ever received – and, having been on a team with the blonde for four years, that was saying something. He rocked back onto his heels from the force but wrapped his arms around the woman all the same. Tears stung his own eyes as he caught Aaron's gaze over the golden-yellow hair. The younger man's dark irises were swimming; this showed Dave just how serious the situation was. Hotch was known most for his stoic expression. Any amount of emotion shown was hardly a good sign. As Penelope clutched onto him, Dave managed to whisper,

"How is she? What happened?"

"I-I can explain, Agent Rossi. She was miserable! So I had her call her doctor. When the doctor said she could take a quick break from bed rest…"

"Garcia, spit it out already."

His voice was harsher than he'd intended, but damn it, this was his wife – _and _child – they were talking about. She brushed away stray tears, smearing the final vestiges of her makeup in the process, and gulped back a hiccup.

"We went to lunch, somewhere close to Little Creek, so it wasn't _too_ much exertion. I drove. She said she had to g-go to the bank for something, I can't remember for what now, but the next thing I knew, there were a bunch of police cars surrounding the area, and they wouldn't answer my questions at all, but finally, I told them she was in there, and she was an FBI agent, and I wasn't going anywhere till I got answers, so they let me through to her. When they took her back, they made me stay out here, so I called her mom, since she's watching Henry, and Derek, and, since I couldn't remember yours or Bossman's numbers, he called you."

Penelope's quick recitation was followed by an abrupt breakdown, and Morgan pulled her away from Dave. The latter immediately crossed the room to stand before his friend and former protégé.

"Aaron, how is she?"

"I know nothing. We've all been waiting for the doctor."

The surgeon's arrival found a restless group of profilers – especially one. Dave hadn't stopped pacing, even though his aching body protested and begged for him to do so. He seemed to fly across the tacky linoleum floor when he caught sight of the blue garb.

"How is she?"

"Mrs Rossi? She's doing better than expected. At first, it was a little uncertain. She had extensive internal bleeding that required surgery to repair. If we hadn't operated, she _and_ the baby would have died. We did what was, at the time, necessary. She's now in stable, yet critical, condition."

"What happened?"

"According to eyewitnesses, your wife took damage meant for the teller in a bank robbery. "

"How…how's the baby?"

At this, the doctor sighed heavily. "Only time will tell how things go, but right now, she's in the NICU."

"She?" croaked Dave, unable to believe his ears.

"Yes. A baby girl. If you ask a nurse later, they'll be able to take you to see your daughter."

"And my wife?"

"I'm sorry, but at this moment, no visitors allowed."

The doctor walked away before Dave could retort. Aaron looked as if he wanted to comfort his friend, but how could he? Though Hotch had had his own touch of loss with Haley, this was entirely different. He'd known the outcome of her life, even before Foyet had actually pulled the trigger, and he'd already had Jack in his life. Dave, however, had no news on his wife, no way of seeing her to verify her existence, _and_ their daughter's life hung in the balance. Aaron Hotchner had long lost faith when he lost Haley, but for the first time since, he bowed his head and prayed.

Penelope leaned against Derek, dizzy from so many emotions rushing through her: anger at herself for convincing JJ to go against doctor (and Agent Super-Overprotective's) orders; fear for her pregnant best friend and the new-born baby who were both fighting for their lives; worry for Dave; confusion; and then back to anger. How could this happen to JJ? She'd been there through everything. When Rossi had walked in on Kevin coming out of her bathroom stark-naked. Through the problems with Derek. She'd even been the one who had shot Battle in the bullpen – in Penelope's honour! Why JJ?

"This is all my fault, and I'm so sorry. I promise I'd take it all back if I could. I really would," she sniffled loud enough for everybody to hear, and Dave stopped pacing and knelt down in front of her.

"Kitten, this is _not_ your fault. You were giving JJ a much-needed break from memorising the patterns on the leaves outside the window. But this was never your fault."

Instead of replying, she began sobbing, and Derek held her tighter. Even though she wasn't a profiler, she knew he, her chocolate Adonis, was praying just as hard as she was.

Emily watched everything unfold before her. People called her cold and calculating, but she was just good at compartmentalising. She had to be. It was ingrained in her from a young age. However, this…this was _not_ something she could file away neatly in a cabinet in the back of her mind and pretend there were no emotions involved. This was her best friend. The first person on the team to accept her. The woman who had kept in touch with her during the Doyle incident. The sister she'd always wanted. The one who'd helped her get through Reid's anger. Speaking of…

"Hey, where's Spencer?"

"I dunno," Morgan muttered quietly, "I called him."

Emily walked outside and pressed **6**. On the third try, she left a voicemail.

"Spencer, I'll just keep calling until you answer. Oh – that's you. Hello?"

"What?"

"Um, where are you?"

"I-I can't see JJ like that. I'm sorry."

With that, he hung up. She leaned against the wall and let the tears roll down her cheeks.

**;;;;;**

"Excuse me, but when can I see my baby?"

The nurse looked up from her computer. "Your name?"

"David Rossi."

"New-born's name?"

"She's unnamed. For now."

"Follow me, sir. Only one person at a time."

He cried. No shame, no hesitation. Seeing such a tiny, helpless, innocent human – one he'd enjoyed helping create – lay there, dependent upon machines to breathe, to stay warm, to stay alive. Though he'd seen plenty of violence in his life, nothing tore his heart like watching an apparatus push air into his baby girl's lungs. He was scared – no, he was _terrified_. He'd thought life was going smoothly before. Then, inexplicably, he'd fallen in love when he wasn't looking, and his whole world had revolved around the gorgeous blonde he'd married after only ten months of dating, and the wonderful son she'd brought into the relationship. He'd always known the two came together; without Henry, there was no JJ. He had never had a problem with that. But now, _now_, their family was complete. If only…

He shook the thought from his mind and wiped at his eyes as the nurses ushered him back to the waiting room. Visiting hours had ended fifteen minutes ago, but the sight of such a fear-struck first-time father had stopped them from evicting him from the nursery. All he could think of, while he sat in a cold, uncomfortable chair in a cold, uncomfortable hospital waiting room, was whether or not he'd have a life after this.

**;;;;;**

"Dave?"

He jerked awake and stared up into his wife's groggy blue eyes. "Hey, cara. How ya feeling?"

"Like crap." She groaned when she shifted into a better position. "What happened?"

"You, my love, decided to take it upon yourself to save a bank teller from a possibly bad outcome in a robbery."

"Dave! The baby! Oh, my God, please tell me the baby is alright. Please. What happened to our baby?"

"Sh, sh, sh. It's all alright. I promise. Our daughter is absolutely fine. She's a tough little one, just like her mom."

"Thank God. When can I see her?"

"The doctor said tomorrow, most likely, if you were feeling up to it."

"Hell no. I want to see her now. I'm not waiting any longer."

"Sweetheart, you have to regain your strength. You can't be moving around a lot."

"David Rossi, either you find a way to get me to see our daughter, or I'll make a break for it my-damn-self. Your choice."

"I'll talk to the doctor," he conceded quickly, knowing well what the woman was capable of when she was determined.

Later that evening, once the doctor was sure Jennifer was up to it, the nurse brought in the bundle of pink blankets and rested the infant in her mother's arms. JJ's eyes immediately drowned in tears; their daughter had fought against the odds, as if knowing her mother was waiting to meet her. Out of respect for his wife, Dave had requested the team wait to see the baby until JJ had gotten the chance to hold her for the first time.

"Dave, what are we going to name her?"

He ran a soft finger along his daughter's forehead and swallowed thickly. "I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"Cara."

"Then I suggest Anne."

"We're not naming –"

"Yes, we are."

"Fine!" she agreed, laughing quietly so as not to disturb the baby. "Cara Anne Rossi. That has a ring to it."

He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and beckoned the team to enter. Though JJ was still bruised, battered, and in pain, she was more animated than they could ever recall her being, besides after Henry's birth and the wedding. Even Spencer, JJ's mother, and Henry had shown up. As Dave looked around the room, at everybody's happy faces and joyful tears, with Henry in one arm, JJ in the other, and Cara's fingers around his pinkie, he couldn't help but feel nothing less than incredibly blessed.

* * *

><p><strong>Here ya go(: I want to apologise for how long it took; I initially wanted to get this done and posted within, like, a week between the first and last chapter. However, it obviously took longer. : Oops. Anyway. Here's the final chapter. I'm glad I finally finished something like this. Rossi/JJ is soooo not my cup o' tea to write, but it was fun to try to push myself in a different direction. As stated before (at least I _hope_ I said it before): This was for ilovetvalot. She has some of THE BEST stories ever; there were plenty of nights that I didn't sleep much because I was too engrossed in her stories to even think of falling asleep. She mentioned something once about needing a Rossi/JJ "fix," so I offered to write this. (: **

**Thank you so much for reading/reviewing/etc. It's been fun! (:**


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